


your eyes are weary

by timtam



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology, The Iliad - Homer, The Odyssey - Homer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-28
Updated: 2013-04-28
Packaged: 2017-12-09 18:48:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/776795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timtam/pseuds/timtam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Agamemnon comes home from the war.</p>
            </blockquote>





	your eyes are weary

You thought she'd wait for you while you were gone. You thought she would be an obedient, good wife. You thought she'd spend her days praying for your return and her nights missing you, wanting you. 

You thought she loved you. You thought you'd tamed her, made her meek and mild, broken her spirit. You never thought of your dead daughter, the one you'd sacrificed to the gods for your war. You thought she wouldn't, either. 

You thought you'd come home and walk straight into her welcoming arms. You thought she'd be happy that you had taken a lover, so she'd know you hadn't missed her too much. You thought she'd help raise your bastard daughter, who looked to you so like the one you'd lost. 

You arrived home, after ten long years, and she said she'd make up a bath for you. She greeted Cassandra, the mistress. She squeezed the baby girl's cheeks. She re-introduced you to your son, who idolised you. You ordered your men to unpack, and you waited for the bath to be ready.

You heard from a maid that she had taken a lover of her own, while you were away. You were angry. Another man had tried to take what was yours. You thought up the perfect punishment while you waited. 

You thought of the banquet that evening, where you would tell tales of your battle, and be regarded a hero. You thought you'd get drunk, and pull her on to your lap. You thought you’d pleasure her under the table, run your hands over her firm breasts in front of everyone, while your equally drunk soldiers laughed and cheered you on, while your mistress and your children sat just down the table, hiding their faces in shame.

You thought you would show her lover that she was yours, not his, that she would never, could never, be his. 

You thought you'd follow her up after she retired for the night. You thought you'd fuck her, hard, mark her all over with you, so she knew that she was yours too. And then you thought you'd call Cassandra in, and watch them pleasure each other, and have them both pleasure you. 

You thought the next day, you'd have her lover killed, and make her watch. You thought you'd tell her about her sister, how she'd shamed herself with Paris, and then with Diomedes, about how she was a whore who'd killed thousands, about all the ways in which Menelaus would punish her for her betrayal. You thought you'd be kind, and not tell her you knew about her affair, but come up with another reason to have her lover killed. You thought she might be angry, so you'd make up for it by giving her your bastard child to raise, like a second Iphigenia. 

A maid came to get you for your bath. You'd never seen her before, but you liked the curve of her ass. You thought you'd call her to your rooms and take her after you were clean. You knew she wouldn't say no. No one ever said no to you. 

You walked into the bath chamber, and found your wife waiting. You thought she smiled at you with her love for you. You thought maybe you'd kill her lover kindly and swiftly, because at least he'd kept her in shape, kept her pretty, kept her nubile. You ordered her to disrobe you, grabbing her with your meaty hands and stealing a kiss every so often, and you smiled as she shivered each time, thinking you'd made her hot for you. You thought her lover must have been terrible, if all it took was a kiss from a master such as yourself to make her shiver. 

When you'd left for Troy, she was a girl. You thought she was still a girl. You thought you'd made her into a Greek, like you. You were wrong. She lowered you into the bath, and stepped aside, watching as her lover came through the door and stabbed you, her eyes hard and cruel. You were stabbed, and you died, and you realised you'd made a mistake. She was a Spartan woman, far from home, and no man, not even you, could tame her.


End file.
